Oh, heeeeeey! No, you don't have to adjust your computer screen, it really is me blogging after an almost 3 week hiatus. I want to thank all of you for the sweet emails checking in when you noticed my absence. It meant a lot.
For my first piece of business, how about the badass makeover on the blog? Through the beautiful and hilarious Lo from Our Crazy Ever After, (quite possibly my Midwest sister from another mister), I was able to find the amazing and uber talented Tia G from Hands on, Pants Off (best blog name, ever). During a late night bout of insomnia, I was
In the beginning of the year I was working with an awesome gal to design my blog, but, she found herself dealing with some tough, and couldn't finish the design (full refund given, no hard feelings. Family first). I LOVED what she done up to that point, and was so bummed that I was left with part of a draft and broken dreams.
And enter Tia.
I sent her the draft, she worked her graphic design magic coming up with the blog design my dreams were made of. That's a real picture of yours truly, my real tattoo, sitting at my real vanity, with only 1 chin (fucking prednisone) donning my cute lupus rash. Ahhh, the wonders of Photoshop.
I get giddy when I look at my blog, so SO happy with the end result. I mean, scars under each sidebar title? Pure genius. So, my Lo-love, thank you for bringing Tia and I together through the wonderful world of nose tampons and infertility. Only you. And Tia, thank you for one badass blog design. I shall be sending anyone who asks your way! <3
It's been quite some time since having the roller coaster of emotions I am currently experiencing; Many commitments forgotten and lots plans changed recently. Not how I usually roll, but sometimes, things take precedence over others.
In the past few weeks my mother-in-law was in the hospital, a good friend in a car accident, a cousin had surgery for cancer, both my parents sick on top of my mom battling Parkinson's Disease and my dad with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia (see mom, I DO care!), my best friend's husband was just officially diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), a dear friend is having surgery for breast cancer, bringing up a horrible time in my life with my therapist, the nose tampon debacle, my usual schedule of tests and bloodwork, and late Saturday night/Sunday morning, Steve's dear Uncle Anthony passed away after a courageous battle with prostate cancer. No, this is a not a "my life sucks more than yours," pissing contest. It's just been a lot. My brain is full and my heart heavy. I needed a break from the computer screen.
Back in September I went to a new gynecologist and discussed my looooong family history of breast cancer. She sent me to get my first mammogram (boobies clear!), and suggested I follow up with a genetic counselor and an oncologist to come up with a plan to begin monitoring me for breast cancer.
I put it off until this February, and met with the genetic counselor and oncologist, both of which were wonderful. As the oncologist was feeling my boobies, we were chatting and discovered she knew my mother from her time at Fox Chase! Small world! My breast cancer prevention plan consists of a yearly mammogram and MRI, alternating 6 months in between each test.
Two weeks ago today I finally went and got the MRI, and when I told my mom I was going, I said "this is the only test lately I KNOW will be fine!"
And last Monday, the dreaded call...
Hi Marla, this is a nurse from Cooper oncology. We got the results of your breast MRI, and Dr. G wants you to come in and meet with one of our oncology breast surgeons, we have tomorrow at 1:45.
This never happens that we have an open appointment this fast, so you should definitely take it if you can.
Somehow my larynx sprung to life, and I managed to form words and schedule the appointment.
Clearly the person who was supposed to have that appointment suddenly died, or they thought I was about to.
And cue the mental breakdown.
I toot my own horn quite often over how well I handle all these fast balls that come straight for me. But hearing this news, on the 2 year anniversary since I last worked an ICU shift at CHOP, was too much.
I called Brie and she talked me off the ledge. She's amazingly good at it, and we always end up laughing/snorting/snotting by the end of our conversation. I broke the news to Steve that night, he immediately took off work for Tuesday, then proceeded to open a bottle of wine. Sometimes, a drink (or a bottle) is the answer.
Really long story short, I have a lobular mass in my left breast. The oncology surgeon (who was fantastic, by the way), tends to think it is benign (hooray!), but, because of my family history and laundry list of problems, it needs to be biopsied. This is something I never thought I'd have to do for at least another 10 years.
The biopsy is scheduled for this Friday afternoon. And since my appointment with the surgeon, I have been going to second base with myself pretty much every chance I get, groping the mass and trying to decide if it's gotten any bigger in the 5 minutes since I last felt myself up.
I'm nervous and could use some "YOU GOT THIS!" words of encouragement. Like I said, even though I have a strooooong family history of pre-menopausal breast cancer, this isn't anything I ever thought I'd have to deal with yet. I'm optimistic the surgeon is right, but can't keep these fingers from (feeling my boobs) hitting the The Googles and reading all the scary things.
Ye, it's been quite a few weeks, to say the least. Forgive me for my disappearance.
Love you all <3